


cogitatione

by lackadaisical



Series: Hellfire [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5490683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lackadaisical/pseuds/lackadaisical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Jedi took vows of chastity. Kylo always thought it was another of the Light’s weaknesses: no command of emotions, falling easily to temptation.</p><p>'But,' he thinks, as he stares upward, waiting for the specter of a girl with tanned skin and fierce eyes to visit him, 'But perhaps they were right.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	cogitatione

Kylo never dreamed.

Ben had; he dreamed beautiful dreams, terrifying dreams, dreams of power and glory unattainable with the Light, nourished by the Dark.

But Ben was dead, Kylo risen from his ashes.

In the two years since he was reborn, he hadn’t dreamed. He wasn’t plagued by the weakness of his subconscious, completely in control of both his waking and sleeping mind. Yet, after being evacuated from Starkiller base, after being strapped to an operation table, after his side was stitched closed, after being pumped with morphine, his control slipped.

He dreamed.

Her skin, tanned and wind burned, glistening with sweat, carried the pungent, heady sent of the sun, of freedom, of _her._ The scent crowded his senses, resurrecting his mind from the deep void of unbroken sleep, coaxing him to slip, to allow, to indulge. Her smell, her skin, all of her should have repulsed him: she was dirty, she was rough, she was the Light. Yet, he allowed the phantom of her to come.

The night when he was drugged with antibiotics and dizzy with pain, he dreamed he was strapped into the interrogation chamber. He wore flimsy patient scrubs, vulnerable without his heavy robes, and was staring at himself. The black endlessness of the robes, the cold helmet, the unreflecting eyes. Where he felt power in the waking world, he now only felt terror.

Then the figure, the apparition of him, was taking off its helmet. It wasn’t his face underneath.

 _Rey_.

She dug into his mind, controlling him, torturing him, but he submitted willingly. He couldn’t resist her; she was a deadly addiction, a required poison. Her hand extended to him, her fingers splayed, she moved toward him, deliberately, excruciatingly. The pain increased as the distance diminished and then she was standing over him.

With her teeth, she pried a glove from her fingers. With a flick of a single bare, tapering finger, she swiped up a bead of his sweat. She raised the bead to her lips, placing it, and allowing it to hang there in perfect suspense. She knew he watched her, yearning for her even as he writhed from her mind torture. Relenting, she bent to whisper in his ear, low and husky: “Beg me to stop.”

He begged. “Please—”

With a gasp, he awoke a tangled mess of sweat, limbs, and bed sheets.

#

He dared not sleep for three days, terrified of his unconsciousness mind, especially with General Hux taking him to the Supreme Leader, taking him to Sanctuary. He couldn’t present himself to Snoke as he was: consumed with desire, given to temptation.

Kylo tried to convince himself it was a fleeting lust. Only a dream, a foolish dream, not of his own sensible making.

Yet, as evening fell on the third day and exhaustion clawed at his mind, demanding him to rest and recover, he was dragged into sleep and _she_ was there.

Her body, her beautiful body, wasn’t shrouded in his heavy robes now.

She was barely covered in a careless bed sheet, _his_ sheet. Tucked under his arm, her head pillowed on his bare chest, he watched as she slept peacefully, blissfully. Sweat from exertion was drying on her forehead and there was a sensation of satisfaction—a satisfaction unlike any Kylo had known before—settled over both of them.

When he woke, slowly and reluctantly—unlike before—and realized he was in the same sheets as she was in the dream, realized his bed was unfathomably cold, he sprung from it. He avoided his quarters for the next two days.

#

General Hux noticed something off about Kylo.

Kylo knew Hux noticed, knew he suspected _something._

But, Hux couldn’t suspect the truth; how could he? It was unthinkable: Kylo Ren, the first Knight in the Order of Ren, the devoted servant of the Supreme Leader, brought to his knees by a skinny, dirty girl from an inconsequential sandbox planet.

Yes, Hux suspected something but he couldn’t quite place it. Kylo, though he would never say, was grateful for it.

#

Time passed, the dreams stayed. She stayed.

When Kylo allowed himself to sleep, he allowed himself to dream.

Despite himself, despite the complete _wrongness_ to his mind, he could not ignore the _rightness_ his body felt. The dreams, the fleetingly glorious dreams, were all that felt good, real, and natural to him. Mostly because she, _Rey,_ was all that felt real to him.

He began to crave sleep, anxiously awaiting the dreams. He knew it was distracting him from his quest for ultimate power, his quest to honor his grandfather and, perhaps, surpass his legacy.

But he allowed himself to indulge, telling himself it was harmless.

On the rare nights sleep evaded him, he lay awake, tangled in his sheets, and stared sightlessly at the darkened ceiling overhead. He dreamed of plans that would never be: plans where she would love him, be with him. Where he would make her love him.

And, perhaps it was the dreams that allowed Ben, or the distant memory of Ben, to remember: the Jedi took vows of chastity. Kylo always thought it was another of the Light’s weaknesses: no command of emotions, falling easily to temptation.

 _But_ , he thinks, as he stares upward, waiting for the specter of a girl with tanned skin and fierce eyes to visit him, _But perhaps they were right._


End file.
